Annabeth's View
by Elke fa Talia
Summary: Scenes from The Sea of Monsters in Annabeth's POV. Percabeth.
1. Shadow

Summary: Annabeth's point of view during scenes in The Sea of Monsters by Rick Riordan. This chapter happens during pages 4-13, as Annabeth attempts to contact Percy throughout his morning.

Disclaimer: Percy and the Olympians belong to Rick Riordan, Copyright 2006. Some phrases are reiterated from the original novel.

Shadow

He tossed and turned, moaned and mumbled. Percy was having a strange dream, of that I was sure.

I had just arrived outside his window after a trek cross-country (and a climb up a rickety old fire escape) to warn him. Monsters were attacking all over and the camp needed his help.

It was surprising that Percy had survived so long. Enemies had attacked me left and right since I left camp. He was a child of the Big Three; he _should_ be dead. That's why I'd been so surprised when Chiron sent me after him. Pleasantly surprised, of course, as he was a friend despite his occasional stupidity and I'd been worrying about his welfare. I tried to reason with myself, but – for the first time in a long time – it didn't work. The camp would've heard from him or his mother if he was seriously injured or had disappeared, but that didn't stop the worry. Plus, if the monsters were getting to be too much, he would have to return to Camp Half-Blood.

Suddenly, Percy sat bolt upright, shivering heavily. I jumped up and moved to open the window. But then, someone knocked on his door. "Percy, you're going to be late," a warm, female voice called. His mother.

I edged away from the window so that my shadow didn't show. I knew next to nothing about his home life and, furthermore, didn't want his mom to find out I was nearby. It was just that… Well, I mean, she was Percy's _mom_. I didn't want to intrude. His mother said something garbled. "Coming," Percy responded faintly. He picked up Riptide, studied it for a moment, and set the pen aside. Now was the perfect time to talk to him.

And then, Percy shucked his shirt and pants. _Oh. My. Gods. _My breath came a little quickly. Alright, then, time to look away… I tried to stare at the ceiling of his room, or his desk, or _anywhere_ else, too shaky to turn myself around and face outwards on the shaky window ledge. Thank the Gods he didn't spot my shadow or anything, because I was frozen to the spot.

Before I could think, he'd wrested on his school clothes and walked out of his room. I'd lost my opportunity.

I collected myself and resolved to forget about the rather odd incident. It was just…awkward. There'd be no need to mention it to Percy, either. I'd have to avoid telling him just when I arrived. I snorted. I doubt he'd ask how I got here, in any case. We'd be running from here to Camp Half-Blood, practically. It wasn't safe anymore.

After I clambered down the fire escape and waited for awhile, Percy stepped out the door of his house and glanced my way, frowning. He saw my shadow! I skittered away hurriedly. Now wasn't the time. It was too close to his house.

Really, I just wanted to see his school. I was curious. Percy had always talked about blowing up this-or-that school. He hated schools, but felt that his mom was worth the grueling fights with occasional monsters. I could see his point. I mean, most campers would give anything to lead a normal, happy life.

I took the subway to his school, and found that Percy was entirely right. It was _not _a pleasant place for him to be. It was, in fact, quite dangerous. Everyone thinks he's a loser, but the worst part is that he's never alone.

There's a Cyclops following him around. And he and Percy are friends. They're constantly talking and acting like friends. There is, I decided, _no_ way I'd talk to Percy with that…_t__hing_ around.

It seemed that my friend was having a very eventful day. So far, he'd stuck up for a Cyclops, blown up a trashcan, and evacuated a lab. Currently, he was staring at his notebook instead of drawing a latitude/longitude map of the United States. I didn't blame him.

Then an idiot from his earlier class, Language Arts, reached over and ripped the photo Percy had been staring at out of the rings.

"Hey!" Percy protested. The thief checked out the picture and his eyes got wide. Mine did, too. Percy had been staring at _my_ photo? I mean, I know he missed camp, and having real friends, but this was a little too much…

"No way, Jackson. Who is that? She is _not_ your–"

"Give it back!" he demanded, his ears red. I caught what they were implying immediately, and scowled. They thought Percy and I – I swallowed – were, like, dating or something. Stupid, gross-minded mortals. The bully handed the photo to his ugly buddies, who snickered and started ripping it up to make spit wads. I couldn't see how my friend put up with them, because _I _was ready to confuse them with enough logic to make their brainless states feel painful. They were annoying, and they were idiots.

My observation was reinforced by further taunting. Percy defended his clueless Cyclops friend against their barbs, and then the visiting idiots stuck little pieces of my photo into their mouths to make spit wads. Gross. Gods, what idiots. I could almost _see_ Percy struggle to keep himself from punching in the lead bully's face. I was having a hard time myself.

There was something creepy about the visitors, but before I could figure out what, the bell rang.

905 words...

Why'd I decide to do a 'Percy and the Olympians' fanfic? There are _not_ enough for a series this good.

Edited on 3/29/08.


	2. Laistrygonian Attack

Summary: Annabeth's point of view during scenes in The Sea of Monsters by Rick Riordan. This chapter happens during pages 13-23, in which Annabeth stalks Percy at his school and finally contacts him in the midst of a monster attack.

Disclaimer: Percy and the Olympians belongs to Rick Riordan, Copyright 2006.

Laistrygonian Attack

The bell rang. I clutched at my invisibility cap, refusing to let it fall off as people swarmed around me. "Percy!" I hissed, but he didn't seem to hear me.

"Percy!" I tried again, and he stopped with a dumbfounded look on his face, searching for the source.

Then a stampede of kids carried him to the gym, and my chance was gone.

I left the locker room to wait outside the school. With that Cyclops hanging around, my chance of catching Percy on his own was nil. I _could_ follow him around through the windows, though.

Next class was P.E., and the windows were over twenty feet from the ground. I scanned the building. There were no handholds, and no convenient (if unstable) fire escapes.

I sighed and settled against the wall for a long wait. Then, screams started.

_Where was the exit? Gods help me, where?_ I searched frantically, skidded to a halt, yanked on the handle... And pulled it right off. The door was locked, and I was fairly sure that it wasn't a coincidence.

KABOOM! Bricks exploded from the adjacent gym wall and a slumped figure was half-covered with debris. I made to check the kid's condition.

It was the Cyclops. The _Cyclops_. The creature tried struggling to his feet, but he fell back, stunned, into a pile of cinder blocks.

I turned to see a Laistrygonian through the hole in the wall cackling in my direction. His name tag said 'Joe Bob'. Odd. The other monsters must've already been defeated, as the one 'Canadian' left couldn't have taken down a Cyclops alone.

"Well!" Joe Bob gloated. "I'm the last one standing! I'll have enough meat to bring Babycakes a doggie bag!"

He picked up another ball and aimed it straight at the Cyclops and I. Percy unwittingly saved my life.

"Stop!" he yelled. "It's me you want!" His voice jumped me out of my stupor. I still wore my Yankees cap, I could sneak around to the giant's back and...

The giant grinned. "You wish to die first, young hero?" I drew my bronze knife and began to sprint towards the monster. The giant wouldn't notice the sound of one more pair of feet with all the other students yelling and running in circles.

So much for not running with sharp objects.

I was halfway there when I spotted Percy's jeans lying in a heap by the monster. _Riptide_. But, no time.

Percy seemed to see his clothes at the same time. Hopeless as it seemed, he charged. I snatched off my cap and stuffed it in my pocket in the hopes that my friend would see me and stop. No such luck.

The giant laughed. I was almost there, _almost_. "My lunch approaches." He raised his arms to throw the cannonball at Percy, and I plunged my knife into his lower back, as high as I could reach.

Joe Bob stiffened. The ball dropped out of his hand. The monster stared down at the knife that had just run him through from behind.

He muttered, "Ow," and burst into a cloud of green flame. I was left with acrid, sulfur-smelling smoke swirling around me, staring straight at Percy.

We're even. He saved my life, I saved his. But I wasn't about to tell him the former. I already looked enough of a mess, with my face grimy and scratched, and my ragged backpack slung over my shoulder.

The bully, forgotten until then, blinked at me. Once, twice. He seemed to recognize me from the photo I gave Percy. "That's the girl... That's the girl–"

I punched him in the nose and knocked him flat. It felt _really_ good. "And you," I told him, "lay off my friend."

By the time I broke my intimidating glare at the stuck-up bully, Percy's sea-green eyes had stopped darting around the gym and were simply staring at me.

"Annabeth..." He stuttered with his dumbfounded look returning. "How long did you... How long have you..." Thankfully for him, I understood what he was trying to ask.

"Pretty much all morning." I was matter-of-fact, as if commenting on the weather. I slipped my knife into its sheath. "I've been trying to find a good time to talk to you, but you were never alone."

"The shadow I saw this morning–that was–" He didn't quite blush, but his face did turn red. "Oh my Gods, were you looking in my bedroom window?"

At this point, I did blush a little. "There's no time to explain!" I snapped. How was_ I_ supposed to know that Percy was idiot enough to change with his window open to anyone that cared to peek in. "I just didn't want to–"

"There!" a woman screamed, cutting off my answer. The doors burst open and the adults came pouring in.

"Meet me outside," I told him quickly. I was forgetting something. The Cyclops. "And him." I pointed to the creature, disgusted. "You'd better bring him."

"What?" Percy half-yelled. The adults hadn't seen me... Yet. Maybe the Mist was hiding me. Who knew how long it would last.

"No time!" I said, fumbling for my pocket. "Hurry!"

I pulled on my baseball cap and vanished. I had to get out of the building before the police arrived and started asking questions.

I stepped wearily through rubble, exiting the cratered, burning gym the same way I'd entered it. With my cap pulled down over my tired eyes, I settled to wait on Percy once again.

920 words...

This was my favorite chapter to write. Loads of action and derring-do. Thanks much for reading, and _please, please_ review.


	3. Homecoming

Summary: Annabeth's point of view during scenes in The Sea of Monsters by Rick Riordan. This chapter happens during pages 43-45, in which Percy and Annabeth arrive back at the camp to find some fireproof bulls attacking campers near the border of Thalia's tree.

Disclaimer: Percy and the Olympians belongs to Rick Riordan, Copyright 2006.

Homecoming

I shouted orders to the other heroes, telling them to spread out and keep the bulls distracted. They began to weave in and out of the monsters' paths, running in large, misshaped loops. Percy was standing off to one side, protecting a winded and indignant Clarisse. They were the only stationary target.

Funny. People seemed to be doing a lot of running in circles, lately.

One bull was busy attempting to cross the boundary line. No need to worry about him, for the moment. The other bull was whipping his head back and forth as fast as he could, trying to keep track of the demigods jogging crazily all over the hill. I smiled as I ran. Plan A was working, for the moment.

Then, the second bull's gaze caught on Percy and I realized that Bull Number One was charging him as well. How did it get through the boundary?

But I had no time to ponder the question. Several demigods ran across the first bull's path, attempting to distract it. I already knew their efforts wouldn't work. Nothing but a freight train could stop something of that size so single-minded. The phrase 'stubborn as a bull' had to originate from somewhere, after all.

A cry of pain upset my reverie. On the ground in front of me, a crumpled figure lay clutching their side. I sighed. People were hurt, and there was no time to carry them out of harm's way. I glanced back at Bull Number One, still charging determinedly. The heroes were only winding themselves, after all…

"Corin! Get the wounded away!" I yelled at the only one without a weapon. He nodded and bounded towards me.

A flash of flame caught my eye. Percy was ducking away from the second bull's column of fire. Rolling, actually. It was hard to tell, so far away. The other demigods were farther, though. I began to run towards the action.

His foot caught and jerked on something. That couldn't be good.

The other bull kept coming, not stopping for anything. The demigods were practically throwing themselves towards the beast, half-heartedly poking it with spears and blades. Heroes were trying their hardest, but the immense heat (and immense speed) of Colchis' bulls drove them away. It was obvious that the bull felt nothing more than vicious pokes, scratches, and slaps. The fighting was simply enraging it.

Percy managed to slash at Bull Number Two with Riptide and lop off part of the monster's snout. It galloped away, wild and disoriented.

Clarisse wasn't grinning, but I could tell she felt highly self-righteous as she finally received her shot at cutting down a monster. I hadn't even remembered her escaping from behind Percy's protective position. Her patrol surrounded Bull Number Two at her call.

The first bull continued to charge Percy, forgotten by Clarisse. A few of the patrol continued to harass it from behind, but they were tiring. The bull would reach Percy long before any help would.

Percy tried to stand, leaning precariously on Riptide, it's point stuck in the dirt. Immediately, his left leg bucked beneath him. His ankle was sprained, maybe broken, and he was about to die for the second time that day.

Tyson, I thought, and then I realized I'd shouted it. "Help him!"

Toward the crest of the hill, Tyson wailed, "Can't – get – through!" The Cyclops was having trouble. Thalia's tree was holding the baby monster back. His legs were pumping, inexhaustible, and his confused, ugly expression almost made me pity him.

I shuddered as I made a split-second decision. I'd have to left the monster in.

"I, Annabeth Chase, give you permission to enter camp!" My voice rose over everything around me, ringing with a conviction that I didn't feel.

Thunder shook the hillside. Suddenly, Tyson was there, barrelling towards Percy and the bull just as it unleashed a nuclear firestorm. I saw the fire encase the Cyclops and could only hope that the person behind him was unhurt by the maelstrom.

"Tyson!" I heard Percy yell over the fire's roar. Some of the patrol surrounding Bull Number Two took the time to glance over at the unfolding scene. Bull Number Two saw his chance to get revenge on his enemies. He took a big swipe at the foremost demigod, and that fool fell on top of the other fools. I ran to help.

"BAD COW!" I heard Tyson easily; two whole camp must've. The patrol began to stare, a few of their mouths hanging open. There was a sound resembling the crushing of aluminium cans. Clarisse was now the only one fighting the other bull. A sibling of hers was backing her up, and the rest of the patrollers were a safe distance away from the beast. They no longer needed my help. Another metal-smashing noise came from Tyson's direction, shrieking across my senses. "Down!" Tyson yelled. I turned and gawked. Percy lay in a crumpled heap behind Tyson. Tyson stood in an intimidating manner in front of the monster. And the bull… The bull's face now looked like a sock puppet pulled inside out. I wanted to go check on my friend, but it wasn't safe to get any closer until the monster was defeated.

The bull staggered and fell onto its back. Its legs moved feebly in the air, steam coming out of its ruined head in odd places. It looked like an overturned insect with a smoking brain. Not altogether pleasant.

I ran (again) towards Percy. The unpleasant, singed scent of sulphur and something burnt perfumed the air. The hair on Percy's arms had been completely singed off. Wow.

"How are you?" I asked, businesslike.

"Ankle," he hissed after trying to move it. "I can't stand."

I handed him my Olympian nectar canteen and he took it gratefully. Percy gulped two swallows and returned it to me. We both knew that two swallows was more than enough.

"The other bull?" Percy asked.

I pointed down the hill, my gaze following my finger. Clarisse had taken care of Bad Cow Number Two with surprising success. She'd impaled it through the back leg with a celestial bronze spear using sheer brute force. Now, with its snout half gone and a huge gash in its side, it was trying to run in slow motion, going in circles like wome kind of merry-go-round animal. Some demented kind of merry-go-round animal, that is. I let my shoulders sag. Camp Half-Blood was safe – for the moment. But monsters could somehow cross the boundary, so its safety wouldn't last long. How could they do so, anyways?

A wave of premonition swept me. Was something wrong with Thalia's tr–

"You–ruin–everything!" Clarisse screamed at Percy. "I had it under control!" Her drill-sergeant voice never failed to grate on my eardrums. This sort of behaviour was typical of her. Any type of help was an attack on her pride and capabilities.

"Good to see you too, Clarisse." I grumbled sarcastically, annoyed more than anything.

"Argh!" Clarisse screamed. "Don't ever, EVER try saving me again!" She completely ignored me. I rolled my eyes unobtrusively and had one of my brilliant flashes of inspiration.

"Clarisse," I said quickly, "you've got wounded campers."

That sobered her up. Even Clarisse cared about the soldiers under her command.

"I'll be back," she growled in warning, then trudged off to assess the damage.

Finally, Percy and I were alone. Peace and, above all, quiet. I turned from Clarisse's retreat to my friend. He was looking at Tyson.

Oh. Right. Tyson. I'd let a monster into the camp. I felt another sigh coming on.

1270 words…

Ending A/N: Cybernetic hugs galore to tigster5, Bexi-chan, vya, ShadowV2.0, bloomingauthor7, danceee15, and Yoshi with a bazooka for their encouragement and constructive criticism.

There's a little "Go" button down below that has your name written all over it.

And, to ShadowV2.0: Pressure is good. It makes me update ASAP. :)


	4. Define a Monster

Summary: Annabeth's point of view during scenes in The Sea of Monsters by Rick Riordan. This chapter happens during pages 67-68. Percy's angry and unhappy with his father for claiming Tyson, so Annabeth is cheering him up by designing a chariot with him.

Disclaimer: Percy and the Olympians belongs to Rick Riordan, Copyright 2006.

Define a Monster

In the morning, Percy and I were sitting by the canoe lake (his favorite place, I swear) sketching chariot designs when some jokers from Aphrodite's cabin walked by. They were primping and fluffing their hair, strutting about as if they were about to do something _daring._

They congenially asked Percy if he needed to borrow some eyeliner for his eye… "Oh sorry, _eyes_."

As they walked away laughing, I could tell Percy was about to explode. He was staring after the jokesters with a murderous look in his eyes that I didn't particularly like.

They were jerks, but there was no point in getting worked up about something that'd never change.

"Just ignore them, Percy," I grumbled. "It isn't your fault that you have a monster for a brother."

"He's _not_ my brother!" Percy snapped, obviously worked up. "And he's not a monster, either!"

Not a monster? My eyebrows shot up. "Hey, don't get mad at me! And technically, he _is_ a monster," I retorted defensively. He looked like an angry hog on a rampage. Not unlike Clarisse.

"Well, _you_ gave him permission to enter the camp."

Percy'd hit a sore spot, for me. I'd endangered my _home_ for him. Didn't he realize that?

"Because it was the only way to save your life!" I suddenly understood that his problem was more the fact that Tyson was his brother than Tyson being allowed around camp. "I mean… I'm sorry, Percy, I didn't expect Poseidon to _claim_ him. Cyclopes are the most deceitful, treacherous–"

"He is not! What have you got against Cyclopes, anyway?"

They tried to eat me and my friends. They messed with my memories of my dad. They turned Thalia into a tree. They took away my best… My best…

But _she_ wasn't my best friend anymore. I didn't dare look at Percy.

"Just forget it," I said. "Now, the axle for this chariot–"

"You're treating him like he's this horrible thing," my friend continued unhappily. "He saved my life."

And one of his brothers stole Thalia's life.

I threw down my pencil and stood. I had tried to be patient, really tried. "Then maybe you should design a chariot with _him_," I huffed angrily.

"Maybe I should!"

"Fine!" I shouted.

"Fine!" he yelled back.

I stomped off, and even the knowledge that our fight had been _his_ fault didn't give me any reprieve from the irrational unhappiness I felt for the rest of the day.

Boys are idiots.

415 words…

This ended up being shorter than I thought it would be. Thanks to my reviewers!


	5. Hiding in the Swamp

Summary: Annabeth's point of view during scenes in The Sea of Monsters by Rick Riordan. This chapter happens during pages 136-140. Annabeth, Percy, and Tyson arrive in Florida and Annabeth leads them to an old hideout of hers. She and Percy have a heart-to-heart of sorts about Luke's betrayal.

Disclaimer: Percy and the Olympians belongs to Rick Riordan, Copyright 2006.

Dedication: To Josis, whose copy of The Sea of Monsters my dog destroyed. Yeah, um, sorry about that…

Hiding in the Swamp

The water traffic became congested as we finally spotted land. The sun was shining brightly and the skies were clear, a combination that made the waves blinding to look at. It was a lucky combination. People who looked our way squinted as if in a sandstorm and gave up trying to make out our boat within seconds. I wondered briefly if there was any Mist coating us. Magic was moving us, but it was invisible gusts of wind. Nothing else about our yellow lifeboat that had just arrived from open sea was magical.

The only people undeterred were the binocular-wielding Coast Guard, who swung around after passing us on our starboard side. But I didn't notice that, because I was busy peering at the shore, trying to figure out where we'd arrived.

While Percy seemed calm speeding across the ocean, away from Luke and the _Princess Andromeda_, I was still uneasy. It must've been the female intuition I'd inherited from my mother. Chiron's talk with us had been woefully drowned out by rock music (why was he at a disco party anyways?) and somehow I didn't' feel like we'd shaken Luke off of our tail. I figured that he was about a day or three behind us.

Thus, it was with unpleasant surprise and a feeling of déjà vu that I recognized the place our lifeboat approached and the boat moored nearby.

"That's Virginia Beach!" I cried, hardly able to believe my eyes. "Oh my gods, how did the _Princess Andromeda_ travel so far overnight? That's like—"

"Five hundred and thirty nautical miles," Percy cut me off. He sounded surprised, too, but I couldn't decide if it was because he knew the distance or because of Luke's speed. He went wide-eyed (and _he_ calls _me_ and owl) while I simply stared at him.

"How did you know that?" I asked quickly, disbelief obvious in my tone.

"I—I'm not sure."

Okay, so Percy didn't know. That meant his calculation of nautical miles was instinctive, a skill, a power. Which meant… I decided to test my theory. "Percy, what's our position?"

"36 degrees, 44 minutes north, 76 degrees, 2 minutes west," he answered immediately, proving my guess. He shook his head as if to clear it. "Whoa. How did I know that?"

"Because of your dad," I told him. "When you're at sea, you have perfect bearings. That is _so_ cool."

Percy's face acquired a peculiar expression, like he didn't know what to make of his new power. I, on the other hand, was thrilled. The ability to have instant knowledge of your whereabouts would make running from monsters much easier, not to mention that Percy would never get lost.

"Other boat is coming," Tyson said. Percy and I twisted in our seats to look. Sure enough, the coast guard vessel was speeding towards us. Its lights were flashing like there was no tomorrow. I wondered what they were planning to arrest us for. Claiming that a yellow lifeboat with three kid passengers was going around a hundred miles an hour would sound ridiculous in court.

"We can't let them catch us," Percy said quietly. "They'll ask too many questions."

"Keep going to Chesapeake Bay. I know a place we can hide." I said, equally quiet. The place would stir up painful memories for me, but we needed someplace to crash. Percy thankfully didn't ask where or how I learned of the place. He simply let loose an extra spurt of air that carried us to the mouth of a river.

Percy seemed exhausted all of a sudden and I suddenly felt a wave of pity for him. We were all tired, but he had family to worry about. If the coast guard had seen him, his mother would have reporters and police crawling all over her like ants. I had never met his mom, but I gathered that she was of the decent sort from the way he talked about her. Better than my mortal family, anyways.

I spotted a landmark. "There, past that sandbar," I told him and he steered accordingly, his hands steady as ever despite his fatigue. I'd never seen them shake. He was foolish at times, but always courageous.

We veered into a swampy area choked with marsh grass. Percy beached the lifeboat at the foot of a giant cypress, the tree of Artemis, goddess of wild things. I took it as a sign that we really were in the middle of nowhere.

"Come on," I said. "It's just down the bank." I began to pick out a trail with my eyes along the hot, muggy riverside.

"What is?" Percy asked.

"Just follow." I slung a duffel bag over my shoulder. He'd see the shelter soon enough and I didn't feel like talking. "And we'd better cover the boat. We don't want to draw attention."

The boys buried the banana-colored boat with branches and we began to trudge through the red mud by the riverside. After an army of mosquitoes, a complaint from Tyson, and several minutes, we reached the bramble-covered shelter. I pulled aside the door of woven, circled branches and we climbed inside.

The place was just like I'd left it, excepting the musty, dank smell of disuse. It was smaller than I remembered, but then I'd been much younger on my last visit. The plant-woven walls hadn't rotted, thankfully, and all the camping and demigod supplies in the corner hadn't been stolen. Not even an animal had stumbled across the hideout Thalia, Luke, and I had created, but I didn't feel proud. Just empty.

"A half-blood hideout." Percy's mouth was open in a perfect 'o' as he gave me a look of awe. "You _made_ this place?"

"Thalia and I," I said quietly. He still looked awed, and I realized that he was about to feel very, very uncomfortable. But I wouldn't lie. "...And Luke."

His expression did change, but not in the way I expected. Instead of standing slightly off-balance and looking anywhere but me, like he usually did when he felt awkward, his sea green eyes darkened and he stared straight at me. In fact, he looked angry, his body taut like he wanted to hit something. It made _me_ feel awkward and a little self-conscious. I pulled at my hair a little, combing it with my fingers, and fiddled with the duffel bag zipper.

Percy seemed to realize, I don't know, _something_, and he broke his intense gaze. He was still tensed up, though.

"So…" he said. "You don't think Luke will look for us here?"

I shook my head. "We made a dozen safe houses like this. I doubt Luke even remembers where they are. Or cares." My voice was bitter and Percy noticed. He finally relaxed and gave me a worried glance. I threw myself down on the blankets, pointedly turning my back to him, and started going through my duffel bag.

Percy sent Tyson off to find powdered donuts, of all things, and I sighed in aggravation and defeat. Seaweed Brain was going to talk to me. He folded up into a sitting position across from me and I felt compelled to look up.

Big mistake. His captivating eyes were trained on me with a stare as intense as before, only this time his eyes weren't dark. They were soft and concerned.

His voice was as soft and concerned as his eyes. "Hey, I'm sorry about, you know, seeing Luke."

My hands suddenly itched to grab his. The urge grew into an unexplainable want to throw my arms around him and cry. "It's not your fault," I told him in a flat voice.

I was a daughter of _Athena_. Emotion should have nothing to do with me—just logic, clean and simple. I unsheathed my knife and started cleaning the blade with a rag, keeping my hands busy.

"He let us go too easily," Percy finally changed the topic. Maybe he realized that I was holding a knife and in a very volatile mood. As I turned my mind towards why Luke had let us go, trying to block out any and all emotions, I couldn't block out the last whisper.

I really, _really_ wanted Percy to hug me. I didn't know why, but I did know that it wasn't just because I felt like crying.

1,390 words…

I managed to end a full page after I'd envisioned with Annabeth wanting something I never saw coming…


	6. Abandoning Ship

Summary: Annabeth's point of view during scenes in The Sea of Monsters by Rick Riordan. This chapter happens during pages 163-165, in which Percy nearly kills himself for Tyson and Annabeth takes care of the foolishly courageous lad.

Disclaimer: Percy and the Olympians belong to Rick Riordan, Copyright 2006. Some phrases are reiterated from the original novel.

Dedication: To Kare (Bright123, formerly ClosetheCurtain), the person that shamed, flattered, ordered me, and generally begged me into writing this and the previous chapter after almost six months of inactivity. This one's exclusively for you, don't you just feel special? Best friends forevah!

Abandoning Ship

"I can't leave Tyson!"

"We have to get the boats ready!"

Clarisse, taking a leaf from my book, snapped a few orders and ran unsteadily across the ship. She and a few of her undead sailors uncovered one of the two emergency vessels while Scylla's heads rained from the sky, thudding into the deck when their aim was off and hissing in anger. More often than not, they found their targets and Confederate soldiers were lifted from the deck, screaming like little girls.

I was trying to convince Percy that checking on Tyson, currently belowdecks, was _not_ a good idea. In fact, it could be a fatal mistake, seeing as how the engine room was close to exploding.

"Get the other boat," he told me, throwing the thermos in my direction. I had to lurch to get it. He had perfect aim, but my balance was off in the rough seas. We were near a whirlpool, after all.

"You can't!" I cried, desperate. "The heat will kill you!" I felt a little like your typical damsel in distress.

Due to the lack of screams while I'd protested, it seemed very unlikely that Percy hadn't heard me. Regardless, he ran for the boiler room hatch and was almost killed by a different threat.

A sudden jolt of the deck threw me to my knees and I almost fell off the boat. It was with horror that I saw an empty space on deck where Percy had been moments before. Then, my quick mind remembered that he was the son of the Sea God, so if he'd been swept into the water he'd probably be safer than if he was on the boat.

I gave a little cry when I looked up, however, and saw that Percy was in the jaws of a Scylla and not in the ocean.

"ANNABETH!" Clarisse yelled at me. She didn't scream, but she was coming pretty close to it. "GET IN A ROWBOAT, NOW!"

I wasted two seconds watching as Percy swiftly rose through the air, dangerously close to the cliffs.

Clarisse, meanwhile, ran to my side and roughly grabbed the arm holding the thermos. My fingers loosed involuntarily and it fell out of my grasp. I barely noticed. She yelled at the soldiers and one of them jumped into a rowboat already suspended over the water. The ship gave another heave to the side. Both Clarisse and I stumbled, drawing my eyes away from Percy. I saw the thermos roll past my feet. It began to roll back towards me…

"GET IN THE FREAKING BOAT, IDIOT!" she yelled as I yanked her hand off of me and threw myself to the deck. My scrambling hands found a cylinder – but, no, it was only a bottle of Dr. Pepper – and then they found the thermos. I studiously ignored the pounding in my brain (Percy's gonna die, Percy's gonna die) as I stood and leaned towards the rowboat, letting the momentum carry me towards and into the boat. My breath was coming deeply as I tried to calm myself. We were _about_ to die, but we weren't _going_ to. Percy... I gulped and glanced upwards to see him swing Riptide and poke the creature in a large, ugly eye. The head dropped him, thrashing back and forth in pain. Percy _dropped_.

The rowboat was now in the water and the grey-clad soldier rowed steadily away from the ship. Suddenly, a head of Scylla grabbed the soldier by the collar, its neck obstructing my view. I recoiled and my head snapped around to find the head so hard that it hurt. The ghost was caught by the collar of his shirt. He flailed wildly, his zombie face looking tormented, like something straight out of a horror movie. It rocked the boat a little, and I had to cling to the sides to avoid going overboard. I could only watch, mouth open, as the head got a good grip on the man, hoisted…

The ship exploded behind me.

I had to duck to avoid hitting the poor ghost as the explosion propelled the little boat forward and up into the air. It narrowly missed several chunks of flaming wreckage, one coming within a foot of my head.

It was really, extremely hot, and the sinking ship's remains slowly began pulling the rowboat backwards. My mind scrambled. What could I do? If I rowed forward, I could break loose from the ship's pull, but Percy would still fall to certain death. I had a rowboat, two hands, a bunch of nearby flotsam, a can of Dr. Pepper, and a gift thermos.

Oh. I'd forgotten about that thermos. I checked to see if everyone, excepting the descending Percy, was in a lifeboat. They were. Alright, then.

I relaxed my death grip on the Dr. Pepper, letting it slip out of my grasp, and gripped the cap of the thermos. With a massive twist, I freed the remaining winds.

The move was rather foolish. I didn't need to loose all the winds, but I was panicking and figured that the farther I was carried away, the better. White sheets of wind, so powerful that they were visible to the naked eye, blasted the rowboats in every direction.

With them went the 'damsel in distress' stereotype. The thought almost made me smile. However, I still felt enough distress to fit that role – would Percy fall, or would the winds catch him? Would Hermes' gift slam anyone into the cliff?

I clutched the side of the boat with one hand and the drained thermos with the other. Above me, Percy jerked out of his freefall and began to fly parallel to the ocean's surface. Thank the Gods.

Then, I couldn't see him anymore. The boat was spinning like a top, but at least it wasn't upending itself over the ocean. Dizziness overwhelmed me and my hands and head began to ache.

Moments later, the winds were running out. Water rushed up to meet the vessel as it dropped like a stone, culminating in a loud, wet splash that somehow spared me a dousing. I was thrown to the floor of the boat, painfully banging my elbow and shin.

I sat up, shaking slightly. The wind had died down so far that only a flutter of my t-shirt remained to remind me of the tornado-esque disaster. Flotsam from the wreck bobbed in and out of sight among the rolling ocean waves. Okay. I was okay. But, where were the others? Despite intense squinting, I could not see any lifeboats.

Tartarus. I was on my own without any clue of my location. I hoped my living GPS made it through the storm after I lost sight of him in the winds. Somehow, I knew that Clarisse was still alive and kicking, though stranded as I was. It would take more than a thermos of air to bring her down.

I puzzled over Jackson's possible situation and laughed worriedly over the mental images. He couldn't have drowned. Maybe a dolphin saved him? Or a school of fish? What if he just sunk to the bottom of the ocean? How would I find him then? Could he call a hippocampus, or something? Don't think I was hung up on my friend's problems, though. I paddled among the waves as I theorized, scavenging for anything useful.

I'd recovered a Ziploc bag of ambrosia, bottle of Dr. Pepper, (I wondered if it was the same one I'd grabbed earlier, but dismissed the thought as irrelevant) and seven Confederate sailor's shirts before I ran across Percy's knapsack. A ragged tear split the bag in half, a result of the Scylla's attack. I heaved it over the side of my craft and was pleasantly surprised at the weight – it seemed that most of his things were still inside – until I realized that the weight was because of the enormous amount of saltwater the bag had absorbed. The only thing left of any consequence was Hermes' bottle of colored multivitamins, and thank the gods for that. A gift from the gods is not given lightly, and if Percy or I lost it, we'd doubtless run into a load of trouble down the road.

My vision strained to scan the waves once again. If Percy's knapsack was near me, it logically followed that he ended up close as well. I finally spotted him around twenty feet from the boat, floating facedown.

As I neared, he was breathing steadily despite his awkward position. And, when I pulled him into the boat with many grunts, groans, and mutterings, he was completely dry. More than a little odd, but then, what wasn't? I flipped him onto his back and brushed a few strands of black hair off his eyes.

Seaweed Brain didn't even wake up as I heaved him onboard, which worried me a lot. He hadn't drowned – again, I always knew he wouldn't, being the son of the Poseidon – but I'd read and memorized the symptoms of concussions and comas. He'd either acquired one of those two, fainted, or blacked out. Percy wasn't the fainting type, though. I fervently hoped that I was wrong and he hadn't hit his head hard enough to seriously hurt his thick, stubborn skull.

So, I nervously started searching for a bump on his head. More accurately, I started running my hands through his hair.

It wasn't feathery, but it wasn't rough either. Just thick and straight. A few snarls marred the black strands, and his haircut was rather messy in itself, which didn't help. He shifted in his sleep (or whatever it was) and I couldn't help but notice how close we were, my hands tangled in his hair, me leaning over his reclining form to reach his head. Percy let out a sigh and my gaze strangely caught on his mouth. My hands twisted around to get a better hold and I found myself leaning a little farther towards him. He looked peaceful and handsome, like one of the dashing princes that had settled for a nap in the fantasy books I'd never read as a child. I leaned down a little more, and then my fingers found the bump on his head.

Right. He was injured, and he was sleeping. Like a baby. I tried to gather the slight contempt for him I usually felt when he'd hurt himself somehow (regardless of whether it was his fault or not) and only found an unusual amount of concern. It took quite a bit of effort, but I finally fished my hands from behind his head, took a deep breath, and sat up straight. I felt like I was coming off a strange sugar high and I'd just been punched in the gut. The most bizarre combination of feelings I'd experienced in a long time.

Only time would tell if he'd passed out for good. I decided I'd been overreacting earlier. None of the heroes' stories mention concussions, so heroes probably don't get them. Halfbloods heal faster than mortals, in any case.

I busied myself with making a grey sail out of the Confederate shirts and pointing the boat in what was, based on the sun's position, the right direction. Percy slumbered on beside me, but I was determined to ignore him. Because I'd realized something that I really, really didn't want to admit to: I just _might_ have a minor, slender, trivial, slim, small, and insignificant crush on the ever-foolish, sometimes-stupid, and always-heroic "Percy" Perseus Jackson, occasional Seaweed Brain, adventurer, and GPS unit. _Might_.

1,925 words…

So, Kare, was it worth the over-six-months wait?

Edited on 3/28/08.


	7. Squinting on the Sea of Monsters

Summary: Annabeth's point of view during scenes in The Sea of Monsters by Rick Riordan. This chapter happens during page 166, in which Percy and Annabeth are lost on the Sea of Monsters, directly after escaping the Scylla.

Disclaimer: Percy and the Olympians belongs to Rick Riordan, Copyright 2006. Some phrases are reiterated from the original novel.

Dedication: All readers that have this story on Story Alert. You guys made me feel guilty enough to complete the unfinished story a mite bit more.

Squinting on the Sea of Monsters

Percy and I sailed for hours, alternatively talking and staring at the waves. We both took small naps, my first sleep since the incident with Clarisse's ship.

Our surroundings were very bad for the eyes, I decided. There really was nowhere I could look without squinting. The sun was bright in the sky, but not overly hot, and the blue of the sky was the optimistic blue of a child's drawing. The sea was a brilliant green, just the color of Percy's eyes, in fact, which was such a gorgeous-

Never mind.

I tried to keep from asking Percy nautical questions too often, but I hated not knowing things. The rate that I'd limited myself to was about a question per hour. And that hour was up.

"Where are we?" I asked him when a lull fell in our conversation.

"One hundred and seventy-six nautical miles west by northwest from the island," Percy responded immediately. I smiled, as if at a joke.

"What?" he asked with a hint of grumpiness.

I didn't want to tell Percy that he adopted a funny-looking face whenever he did that – a surprised look, wide eyes and all – so I just shook my head. He frowned, but let the subject drop.

Judging by our current speed of travel in the little rowboat, it would take another couple hours to find our island. Which was fine with me, I suppose.

"How'd you do it?" Percy asked. I didn't know what he meant, and my clueless state must've shown on my face, because he pointed at my improvised sail. I gave him a shrug. "Athena made the loom."

"Oh. Right." Percy was embarrassed at his ignorance for a moment before grinning. "So, you can sew and weave and all that? I never figured you were that domestic." I exhaled a long-suffering sigh.

"Seaweed Brain, if it weren't for my domesticity, you'd be rowing," I pointed out, and he dropped that subject, too. In fact, he winced at the thought.

We sat in silence for quite awhile, staring off into the sky, sea, or in random places around the boat.

Percy stared at me.

It made me very uncomfortable, almost like the time we'd hidden in the old hideout of Luke's, Thalia's, and mine. Thinking of the hideout only made me more uncomfortable, but I kept my exterior still. I was calm that way.

I drew my knees up and wrapped my arms around them.

"Annabeth," Percy hesitated, and then said in a rush, "what were you doing, outside my window?"

I turned to look at him (okay, over his shoulder) with wide eyes and felt rather like an owl. Was that what he'd been thinking about while he stared? I felt the blood rise to my cheeks.

"It was nothing," I lied, shifting a little.

"Come on, Wise Girl."

"Do you really want to know?"

"It can't be _that_ bad." The statement was entirely true, from his point of view. To me, however, it was very bad. Thinking about it brought about a stain of embarrassment. The memory also accompanied a certain amount of unease and indecision.

"I'd traveled cross-country to bring you back to camp and figured I'd catch you right when you were waking up, since that's when I arrived. But your mom interrupted," I said.

"That's it?" he asked, a flicker of something on his face. It was quickly gone, however, and he continued with the questions. "How did you get _up_ there?"

"The fire escape made a far easier climb than the camp's volcano." I sounded like I was commenting on the weather.

"I-I'm glad you came," he said.

"Why? You said the monsters weren't attacking you heavily, with… Well, you said you were pretty safe."

"Well, I mean, it was good to see you again. Though I missed Grover, too, of course."

I studied my hands and fervently ignored the warm feeling in my stomach. My mind recalled the reason Grover wasn't here. Looking up, I found that Percy had remembered, too.

"He's hanging on," I said, resting a hand on Percy's shoulder.

"Yeah, but will he still be hanging on in a few hours? A day?" He shook his head. "Sorry, I shouldn't ask that. He's your friend, too, it's just… The empathy link, you know? I can feel his fear. And I wonder how much of it is mine, instead of his. If I stop feeling his fear, it means…" Percy wasn't crying and he was still facing me head-on, but his expression was empty enough to speak volumes.

"He was my first real friend in the mortal world, and in the world of the Gods. Plus, he's looked out for me since before I knew about all of this," he explained dejectedly.

"We're working on it," I said firmly.

"Yeah." He nodded. "Yeah, we are. Thanks." He attempted a smile, and I attempted one in return. I knew what he meant.

With a squeeze, I let my hand fall off of his shoulder and to my side.

I was the first person to break eye contact.

We squinted at the ocean once more.

854 words…

I started this chapter trying to write out their conversation about the Prophecy. Whoops. Next time, I guess. If you guys see any typos, please PM me!


	8. Cue the Doom Music

Summary: Annabeth's point of view during scenes in The Sea of Monsters by Rick Riordan. This chapter happens during pages 166-168, in which Annabeth and Percy talk of the prophecy.

Disclaimer: Percy and the Olympians belong to Rick Riordan, Copyright 2006. Some phrases are reiterated from the original novel.

Dedication: To Kare (Bright123), once again, for reviewing despite her one-handed status and not being offended when I mistake her identity. I'd hug you, but your arm would get in the way.

Cue the Doom Music

A couple hours later, we were still sailing, and still holding on-and-off talks. I reclined against an end of the rowboat, but Percy was all-out lying down on the floor. His hands were laced under his head and he stared with half-open eyes at his feet, trying to escape the sun's glare. The latest conversation had turned sour with the mention of Tyson.

"Yeah," Percy said bitterly. "You can never trust a Cyclops."

I stared across the water. "I'm sorry, Percy. I was wrong about Tyson, okay? I wish I could tell him that." I felt guilty about a lot of things, and this was second on my list. The first item, I was careful not to tell Percy, was not noticing Luke's unhappiness before he was driven to betrayal. For the longest time, it felt like all the two of us had were each other. We had a huge, extended family, but who else could understand the monsters we'd faced with Thalia, daughter of the Big Three and subsequent danger magnet?

Percy seemed to accept my answer, because the next thing he said was, "Annabeth, what's Chiron's prophecy?"

Whereas I hadn't _wanted_ to tell him about the 'window incident' earlier, this was territory forbidden by Chiron. I pursed my lips. "Percy, I shouldn't-"

"I know Chiron promised the Gods he wouldn't tell me. But _you_ didn't promise, did you?"

"Knowledge isn't always good for you," I told him, attempting a condescending air. That sort of attitude was my personal way of avoiding peer pressure – act like you're above it all. It was also an excellent method to make others feel small, if I felt that they deserved it.

"Your mom is the wisdom goddess!" He twisted around for a moment to look at me accusingly.

"I know!" I responded quickly. "But every time heroes learn the future, they try to change it, and it never works." Didn't the boy understand? I was withholding what I knew for his own good! If he learned it all, he would have a cloud of fear and dread over his head, and Grover really didn't need that right now. No one did.

"The gods are worried about something I'll do when I get older. Something when I turn sixteen."

I twisted my Yankees cap in my hands. He was entirely right. Where had he learned that? Grover? How much did the satyr know? What should I do?

Well, there was no hiding it now. I owed Percy, hard enough as it was to admit. I'd saved his life and mine, but – I swallowed – I'd pretty much dealt a death sentence to Tyson. I hadn't even thought of the Cyclops as I killed him, just of transporting Percy and myself to safety.

Luke, however, still topped my 'guilt' list. The realization made me feel even guiltier. I killed someone that had acted more heroically than I'd ever given him credit for, and I felt worse about failing a traitor.

I wanted to pull on my hat and disappear.

"Percy, I don't know the full prophecy, but it was about a half-blood child of the Big Three – the next one who lives to the age of sixteen. That's the real reason Zeus, Poseidon, and Hades swore a pact after World War II not to have any more kids. The next child of the Big Three who reaches sixteen will be a dangerous weapon."

"Why?" I watched the back of his head – the black hair that my hands involuntarily twitched at – with trepidation.

"Because that hero will decide the fate of Olympus. He or she will make a decision that either saves the Age of the Gods, or destroys it."

Percy took the news well. His only reaction was to blink a few times and acquire a queasy expression. I shallowly hoped that he'd have time to sit up and lean over the rail before he got sick all over the inside of the boat, if it came to that.

Could a Son of Poseidon get seasick? I glanced at Percy, but he was still silent and unmoving.

Percy. He looked so lost. Did he feel lost, even out in the ocean, literally in his own element?

"That's why Kronos didn't kill me last summer."

I nodded, obscurely proud of his cunning. My unhappiness, however, escalated. What could it be like to hear such a dark fate, and know that it's your own? I hated being the one to tell him.

Gods, I was letting my emotions run amok. It was best to be apathetic, I reminded myself, or at least act that way.

"You could be very useful to him. If he can get you on his side, the Gods will be in serious trouble."

"But if it's _me_ in the prophecy-"

Here came an ultimatum that I couldn't take. "If it's _me_ in the prophecy," he was about to say, "then I'd never betray the Gods."

A nasty reminder of Luke. A brutal parallel between my friend and former friend, because Luke had always sworn the same thing, right up until he lost hope that Hermes would actually be a father to him.

I heard my voice interrupt Percy.

"We'll only know that if you survive three more years. That can be a long time for a half-blood. When Chiron first learned about Thalia, he assumed _she_ was the one in the prophecy. That's why he was so desperate to get her safely to camp. Then she went down fighting and got turned into a pine tree and none of us knew what to think. Until you came along."

Something green flashed in the corner of my eye, but my attention was too focused on Percy to care. Later, I would wonder if it was some fish curious enough and daring enough to gather gossip concerning the Son of the Sea God.

"This kid in the prophecy…he or she couldn't be like, a Cyclops?" Percy asked. "The Big Three have lots of monster children."

I shook my head, a healthy dose of self-hate advancing once again. He'd asked, though, and he deserved to know the truth. "The Oracle said 'half-blood'. That always means half-human, half-god. There's really nobody alive who it could be, except you."

"Then why do the gods even let me live? It would be safer to kill me."

"You're right."

"Thanks a lot." His sarcasm stirred a little exasperation in me. The emotion was a welcome one in me: for the first time since who-knows-when, I was mad at Percy, even if it leant on the mildly irritated side.

"Percy, I don't know. I guess some of the gods _would_ like to kill you, but they're probably afraid of offending Poseidon. Other gods…maybe they're still watching you, trying to decide what kind of hero you're going to be. You could be a weapon for their survival, after all. The real question is…what will you do in three years? What decision you make?" I leaned towards him, not realizing how serious I'd made the questions sound – like I was asking him for a final answer, right here, right now. Percy looked like he was thinking, hard. For him, it wasn't a rare expression, but was one that always entertained me.

Reflecting upon the last few hours, including his nautical-info-spouting-expression, I vaguely noticed that I liked quite a few of his expressions. This one was a favorite, though. The brooding aspect of it was a little hot.

Though, of course, he was brooding, which meant I should worry about him some. Yes, worry was especially appropriate when one considered the subject.

"Did the prophecy give any hints?"

I hesitated. This answer I wasn't exactly sure of. Most of what I knew was hearsay, and none of it was uplifting in any way, shape, or form. Furthermore, Percy's latest question was much more delicate than the previous ones. It was here that he'd try and fail to change the future, based on what I revealed. It was here that divulging something could mess with his all-important choice…_if_ it was Percy that the prophecy pertained to.

An olive branch whistled through the air and into my lap seemingly from nowhere, interrupting the moment. With a jump, I looked up to spot a seagull resting on the mast.

"Land," I deduced, "there's land nearby!"

Percy abandoned the conversation without a second thought. I'd never understand boys, though I gladly accepted this oddity. He, of course, sat up and figured out the direction of the island in one second flat.

The brown smudge on the horizon wasn't Polyphemus' island – we hadn't sailed long enough to reach that – but it was land, and it would have water, food, and (hopefully) a faster boat.

1,455 words…

I've resolved to try and finish this fanfic within the next two months. This story's finally exceeded 10K words. And, finally, I edited chapters one and six. Can I get a whoop, whoop?


	9. Split Personalities

Summary: Annabeth's point of view during scenes in The Sea of Monsters by Rick Riordan. This chapter happens during pages 171-173, in which C.C. meets with our favorite pair of heroes.

Disclaimer: Percy and the Olympians belong to Rick Riordan, Copyright 2006. Some phrases are reiterated from the original novel.

Dedication: to Alise (butterflybookmark), because she's correcting people on the review boards, so that I don't have to. That's pretty awesome.

Split Personalities

Finding a spa in the middle of the Sea of Monsters wasn't the oddest thing I'd encountered on this quest (a certain donut chain in the middle of the wilderness sprang to mind), but the discovery certainly was my classiest landfall yet.

The afternoon sun glinted on purely white marble, not marred by a speck of dirt, as Percy and I followed the austere spa attendant. The whole place glittered with reflected light, the mountainside painted with vibrant color. It was beautiful. How did a place like this end up in a place of monsters? A night's stay must cost a fortune.

As we passed more and more customers, my drachma estimate of the price skyrocketed. Women, none older than thirty, lounged in gleaming surroundings as white-robed attendants cared for their every need. One, I noticed, was massaging her mistress' feet, which couldn't be a pleasant job. Most of the others were having their nails done elaborately. I glanced at my nails, raggedy and short, with regret. I didn't have a problem with nail-biting, but questing doesn't quite promote nail care. Adventurers are usually too busy running for their lives.

The most eccentric thing about the island was that wild animals, some of them carnivorous, acted tame, intelligent, and even affectionate towards the denizens of the spa. Their brainpower far surpassed the level normal for their species. I mean, a rat fetching key ring 122 for the receptionist as we passed some sort of office? It was downright strange.

As we headed up a staircase toward what looked like the main building, I heard woman singing. Her voice drifted through the air like an enchanting lullaby.

My mind rebelled against the sweetness, but, slowly, I felt myself stroked into complacency and a sense of loveliness. A curtain fell across my thoughts, hiding the atrocious parts – the bursts of consciousness that struggled and fought back.

We stopped, as one, at inside an open doorway. I felt as if I were in Madeline L'Engle's A Wrinkle in Time, at the peaceful planet, where everything was order and uniformity and peace. The analogy swept away at the sight of a tapestry that shone like magic. It depicted a forest scene that looked to be moving, it was so realistic.

"It's beautiful," I said.

The woman turned. She was even prettier than her fabric. Her long dark hair was braided with threads of gold, and her green eyes were sharp and clear – much sharper and clearer than Percy's storm-filled green.

_They are cruel,_ the back of my mind chimed, but the woman was speaking.

"You appreciate weaving, my dear?"

"Oh, yes, m'am!" I enthused. "My mother is-"

I stopped myself, stunned that I'd gone so far. Usually, when I made a mistake, it was because I wished to further examine some piece of genius. This time, I had almost revealed something unsafe because I wanted to impress a woman that I didn't even know. What was wrong with me?

The lady smiled. "You have good taste, my dear. I'm so glad you've come. My name is C.C."

With the sound of her voice, my complacency returned. Guinea pigs began squealing in a cage in the corner, hurting my ears. I wished that C.C. would talk again.

"I'm Percy," my friend spoke, and I felt a flash of annoyance.

"My name is Annabeth," I said quickly. C.C. smiled at me, and then looked over Percy with a twinge of disapproval.

I was intensely proud of myself, but my emotions regarding Percy were, as always, complex. They became positively muddled as my sectioned-off thoughts grew louder.

_Tartarus, Annabeth, he looks good enough as he is_._ Don't feel sorry for him, and, especially, don't feel smug! Who cares what C.C. thinks? This has to be some sort of trap!_

The alarm bells in my head drifted away again as C.C. sighed to Percy, "Oh, dear. You _do_ need my help."

"M'am?" Percy asked.

C.C. called to the lady in the business suit, hovering nearby. "Hylla, take Annabeth on a tour, will you? Show her what we have available. The clothing will need to change. And the hair, my goodness. We will do a full image consultation after I've spoken with this young gentleman."

"But…" _I can't leave Percy. We only came for supplies. There's nothing wrong with me or my friend!_ "What's wrong with my hair?" I used a voice I could have sworn I'd outgrown.

C.C. smiled benevolently. "My dear, you are lovely. Really! But you're not showing off yourself or your talents at all. So much wasted potential!"

Hope grew, deep down inside of me. "Wasted?"

"Well, surely you're not happy the way you are! My goodness, there's not a single person who is. But don't worry. We can improve anyone here at the spa. Hylla will show you what I mean. You, my dear, need to unlock your true self!"

_I agree, you monster!_

I felt wonderful. I would look beautiful and confident enough to do anything. I could… My mouth gaped. I could make Luke return, I could be important enough to garner my mother's attention, I could have my father to my own again, I could…

"But…what about Percy?"

I hadn't meant to say that out loud.

"Oh, definitely," C.C. agreed, entirely missing the point of my words. "Percy requires my personal attention," she continued. "He needs _much_ more work than you."

"Well…" I said. "I suppose…"

The back of my mind was screaming at me, screaming something about _Percy, safety, _and _traps._ The front didn't want to leave, either. It wanted to _see_ Percy's transformation – because, really, what could C.C. do besides make him take a bath and change clothes? Why so dramatic? Why the secrecy?

Thankfully, C.C. didn't notice that my worry wasn't about leaving the beautiful lady so much as leaving Percy and missing out on something.

It was so gorgeous here, though, and I could always see him later…

"Right this way, dear." Hylla took my arm and, in a trance, I allowed myself to be led away into the waterfall-laced gardens of the spa.

It was like a dream come true – how could anything be wrong with that?

1,031 words…

Up next, an exploration of C.C.'s Spa and Emporium, and enough introspection to make Annabeth grow up a little.


	10. The Grand Tour

Summary: Annabeth's point of view during scenes in The Sea of Monsters by Rick Riordan. This chapter happens during pages 177-180, in which Annabeth's dressed up at C.C.'s Spa & Emporium, learns the truth about her host, and begins to break out of the place.

Disclaimer: Percy and the Olympians belong to Rick Riordan, Copyright 2006. Some phrases are reiterated from the original novel.

Dedication: To the 22 reviewers of the last chapter. You know who you are. I appreciate it. :D

The Grand Tour

It took less than twenty minutes for Hylla's assistants to bathe and clothe me. I now smelled of strawberries and cream, which I wasn't sure about, but they assured me was very alluring. The three of them worked quickly with my hair, drying it and braiding it with some strands of gold thread. Then, they sorted through more makeup than I'd ever seen outside of the Aphrodite cabin to find what suited "your complexion, dear," and, lastly, they exchanged my towel for a white shift and sandals that reminded me of ancient Greece.

I won't lie, I had fun. It was very relaxing, despite the pace. And the dress was made of silk. I didn't know if I'd ever worn a silk dress before.

After that, much to the distant amusement of Hylla, I asked to see the library. She was surprised that I didn't yet want to see the spa, but she complied readily.

It took a few minutes of leisurely strolling to get there, and once I stepped through the wide, open archway of an entrance, I was stunned.

"Wow…" I breathed. Really, there was no other word for it.

This library was the biggest I'd seen. The cleanest, too – it was bright and airy and not a book was out of place.

Hylla smiled.

As I walked to the nearest bookcase, she followed. I ran my fingers across the leather spines. I was in the classics section, apparently, and my breath caught as I touched Homer's _The Odyssey_. The gold-embossed title was very old and perfectly preserved. I pulled it out and it opened almost of its own accord. I began to read the Ancient Greek…

"…sailed hence, always in much distress, till we came to the land of the lawless and inhuman Cyclopes. Now…"

My mind, under my perfectly styled hair, whirled all of a sudden, and a deep sadness settled upon me.

_Tyson. Gods, Tyson. He didn't die so that I could relax at a spa. And, Grover! How could I have forgotten about him? Gods, our _quest!

_It's time to thank C.C. and leave, I think._

I had frozen, and Hylla must've noticed that something was wrong.

"Annabeth?" she asked politely.

I shelved the book quickly and spun to face her. "Thanks for your help, Hylla. This really is a beautiful place." Hylla looked confused. "I do have one question for C.C., though. Where did you say her office was?"

Of course, Hylla hadn't already told me where the office was, but at my request, she creased her brow and pointed. I gave her a sweet smile.

"Thanks. I'll see you, then." And I was off.

I ended up strolling there slowly. This just wasn't a place where one could walk busily without feeling odd. I checked over my shoulder to see if Hylla was following; if she was, I couldn't see her.

_I wonder what Percy'll look like? Or what he'll think…_ I looked down at my simple dress and blushed.

Finally, I reached the building that held her office. After a few turns, I stopped near her door. I could hear faint voices inside, so I called, "Miss C.C.?"

She didn't answer, so I went on in.

Jackson wasn't in the room anymore, despite C.C.'s earlier claims that he needed her personal attention. I frowned. "Where's Percy?"

As if to offset my frown, C.C. smiled widely. "He's having one of our treatments, my dear. Not to worry. You look wonderful! What did you think of your tour?"

My thoughts returned to the library at the sound of her voice. Omitting the fact that I'd skipped the rest of the tour, I exclaimed, "Your library is amazing!"

"Yes, indeed. The best knowledge of the past three millennia. Anything you want to study, anything you want to _be_, my dear."

Her voice was gorgeous, but it made my stomach turn. "An architect?" I asked, some part of me bothered.

"Pah!" C.C. said. "You, my dear, have the makings of a sorceress. Like me."

The bothered part of me turned into alarm and gained strength. "A sorceress?"

"Yes, my dear." C.C. held up her hand with a flourish and flame started to dance across her fingertips. "My mother is Hecate, the goddess of magic. I know a daughter of Athena when I see one. We are not so different, you and I. We both seek knowledge. We both admire greatness. Neither of us needs to stand in the shadow of men."

My face showed fright. "I – I don't understand."

Behind her, something squeaked. Loudly. I didn't bother to look.

"Stay with me. Study with me," C.C. wheedled. It made my head spin. "You can join our staff, become a sorceress, learn to bend others to your will. You will become immortal!"

"But–"

"You are too intelligent, my dear." _Tyson's dead._

"You know better than to trust that silly camp for heroes." _Grover needs my help._

"How many great female half-blood heroes can you name?"

Thrown off, I answered, "Um, Atalanta, Amelia Earhart–"

"Bah! Men get all the glory!" C.C. clenched her fist, smothering the flame. "The only way to power for women is sorcery. Medea, Calypso, now there were powerful women! And me, of course. The greatest of all."

"You… C.C. …" I stuttered, "Circe!"

"Yes, my dear."

I backed up slowly, and Circe laughed. "You need not worry. I mean you no harm."

Her last sentence wasn't lost on me. She turned Odysseus' crewmen into pigs because she hated men – in the Odyssey, ironically enough. Thus, she meant harm to my GPS system.

"What have you done to Percy?" I demanded.

"Only helped him realize his true form," she said smugly, condescendingly.

I scanned the room, my stomach decidedly sick. My eyes widened at the cage of guinea pigs. Guinea pigs? It was to my credit that I was filled only with worry for Percy, not with even the smallest laugh.

"Forget him," C.C. said, confirming my suspicions. "Join me and learn the ways of sorcery."

"But–" I tried again.

"Your friend will be well cared for. He'll be shipped to a wonderful new home on the mainland. The kindergartners will adore him. Meanwhile, you will be wise and powerful. You will have all you ever wanted."

I let my face fall slack. I hadn't known that I could act, but I was sure glad to discover that skill. Percy – the agitated one _must _be Percy, I thought – squealed louder, if that was possible.

"Let me think about it," I murmured. "Just… Give me a moment alone. To say goodbye."

"Of course, my dear. One minute. Oh…and so you'll have absolute privacy…" Circe, talking like I was a first-grader, waved her hand and iron bars slammed down over the windows. She swept out of the room and the door locked behind her with several clicks.

I was going to break Percy and I out of here, I thought to myself determinedly as I darted towards Percy's cage. Once I figured which guinea pig was him, as they were all squealing now…

"All right, which one is you?" I asked. They all kept squealing. _Well, that helped,_ I thought. I scanned the room again and spotted Percy's jeans under… under the loom? _Whatever. No time to figure it out._

Rushing over, I pulled them out and began rummaging through the pockets. What would help? Not Riptide – though that's likely what Percy would grab. I almost laughed.

I pulled out Hermes' multivitamins.

_I am so getting us out of here,_ I thought as I jiggled the cap. _And then I'm giving the idiot a big hug, just because I deserve it._

1281 words…

Well, I'm not making any promises about the next chapter this time, since I'll likely break them. :hangs head in shame: Hope you liked this one, though.


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